


Somewhere in southern Thedas

by Akalon



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Dragon Age Original Characters, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-28
Updated: 2016-07-28
Packaged: 2018-07-27 09:08:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7612240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akalon/pseuds/Akalon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You hear that? It's the sound of an evil man being forged.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Somewhere in southern Thedas

"I have lived as you live, done all you have asked, I have followed your traditions and still you say _no_?" An angry male voice said from behind a wooden door. Inside stood an Avarrian mage and a qunari much wider than he. And old fighter,softer now without a blade in hand.

"My wife has spoken and I will support her." The Qunari spoke, a warning in his voice.

"What must I do then? What more shall I do to prove me of my worth?" The Avarr asked, anger turning to desperation.

The man before him sighed and crossed his arms across his chest. "There is nothing you **can** do."

Flabberghasted the mage stood still ,staring with his one good eye in shock. "That- I- What do you mean _nothing_?"

"Movak." The Qunari said, annoyance seeping into his tone as if the mage before him were a child. "Do not pursue this. Let it be."

The mage turned, "You know I can not." Leaving angrily with the ring he held biting into his skin.

"This is a mess." The qunari said, shaking his head before going back to laying the hay in the stable.

\----

"You deny me?" Movak asked, confronting an elven woman who stood over a large boiling pot.

"Indeed I do Movak. You have been quite obvious in your intentions for a while now." The perky eared woman said as she wiped her hands on her apron. Ladling him a bowl she handed it out to him.

"I wish to kno-"He began only to be cut off.

"Eat Movak, maker knows you'll be needing it." The woman said, offering the bowl again. Groaning the mage took the bowl from her hands and sat it down on the nearby table.

"Need it for what?"Anger was starting to rise again at these games of words.

The elven woman laughed, turning her back to him and giving the soup a stir."For when the templars come honey."

His blood ran to ice and his eye desperately searched for the joke. Only silence filled the room. "Templars? You have called the _**Templars**_?"

"Me? Oh maker! I would _never_... but they are due to arrive any day now. Hissera would be so heartbroken to see you go so soon... Perhaps it is for the better though. Eat, before it gets cold." The elven woman turned to cut some carrots. Her thin fingers gripping the blade skillfully as she sliced through the vegetable. It was a weapon and not to dull to slice through his flesh without warning. She feared his retaliation for this would become physical? The breath in his chest left him and his hands found the table.

"My only wish was to make her _happy._ " He said softly.

"And you have done that. Now it is time you move on my dear. I'm sure Tevinter will be as good, it's to the north. Easy to make a life there as a mage." The woman didn't so much as look away from her work as she spoke.

"Tevtiner? The place of **greed** and _slaves_? You would see me there rather than have her in my arms?" Disbelief hit him like a slap to the face. He couldn't help but feel his heart breaking under his anger and shock. He'd anticipated a much different answer today than the one he'd gotten. Yes all across the board, overjoyed embraces, favored meals prepped to perfection with his aid. Instead he was served the innkeeper's watery soup and disappointing heartbreak.

"Movak dear. Mages can not marry here in Ferelden. Our family struggles enough as it is without an Avarr's problems adopted into it."

 

Teeth gnashed as he held his tongue. "My people do not look for me."

Setting the knife down the elf fixed him with a stern gaze and put her hands on her hips. "And you fall from the mountainside with injuries that should have killed you. You don't return once they are healed despite your family being well and your station in your hold being a good one. I may be a woman and an elf but I have gotten this family to where it is with wit and bloody force and so help me- I will see you **gone** before the moon is high in that sky." It wasn't anger in her tone, nor threat. It was something else entirely and he found himself stepping back from the tiny woman. Movak turned and went to leave the room, yanking the door open.

  
"Oh and Movak?" She called, turning to dump the carrots into the soup. "If my dearest Hissera goes _missing_ there is no where you can ever run that will keep me from her. I hope you understand dear. A mother's love is in the blood." The knife found it's way into the door, inches from the mage's head. "Whoops. Clumsy me. Be a dear and set it on the table? Thank you." 

 

Pulling the knife from the door with a bit of a struggle he sat the blade on the table and left. Joyful humming filling the room he'd just left.


End file.
